Dizzee Rascal Ice Rink - Wiley: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Dizzee Rascal Ice Rink

1,446

Hip-Hop/Rap

Dizzee Rascal Ice Rink was released on August 1, 2008 by Avalanche Music as a part of the album Tunnel Vision Volume 3

Song Details

AlbumTunnel Vision Volume 3

Release DateAugust 1, 2008

LabelAvalanche Music

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM141

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Yo, one

What you do will come back to you

Yo, 1, 2, I'm just warming up, warming up

Pressure, pressure

Big up North London Crew, big up from the South London crew

East London crew, West London crew

Yeah, look, real, look

[Verse 2]

I got a rude attitude, far from a role model

I'm so full of trouble and (Rags)

I couldn't give a rasclat, not a bit

Couldn't give a rat's arse if it's shit and (Rags)

I still behave raw, no love for the law

Feds bother me more and rags

I don't care where you live, or who you're with, you'll get buried in the grass

I say what I say real fast

Say it with stylie, say it with class

Goin' on dirty, I said it in the past

Don't like me? I said kiss my arse

Kiss from left to the right (What?)

Kiss till my black bum cheeks turn white (Yo)

Kiss my arse through the night

Don't stop till you see daylight, look (Daylight)

[Verse 3]

Tip toes

Life ain't always nice, that's how shit goes

You know we're goin' on black 'cause we're blickrows

And I can't be seen with these

What did I say last night? I bet your chick knows

You were not knockin' the boots how we hit toes

Your girl's the same, as all bimbos, freaks and nymphos (Yo, look)

I got an idea, make dough on the spot

I mean right here

Now give girls the paper for the whole year

Bring drama 'cause I got no fear

And my head feels so clear

Move to the mic, MC's are like, "Oh dear"

Some try catching me but they're not near

Not ever, not now, or not here way too hot here

Yo

[Verse 4]

Didn't wanna care

Left that boy in a gutter somewhere

Talk life, I don't wanna talk bread

Make you wish you were born elsewhere

I gotta wash that girl out my hair

She's old news everyone's been there

No, we're not equal, no, we're not fair

That girl's anything, she gets air

[Verse 5]

That MC is down

Tell him I said it, and I said it real loud (Uh)

Goin' on rowdy, goin' on 'round

That boy tried it, that boy failed

Sorry, pardon, what? (What?)

Coulda got bored up, coulda got shot

Gunman get gun down on the spot

Who's hot? Who's a bad boy? Who's not?

[Verse 6]

Stop dat, start dat

Get dat, what?

Been there, done that, had that, what?

He's got a Nokia, take that, what?

Big mouth, loud mouth, watch that

Pretty girl, buff girl, doggy dat (What?)

Raskits on the format, what?

Bad man just get a backslap, what?

Call the shots like top cat (Yo)

[Verse 7]

Guns in the air

Feds on the case but we don't care (Look)

Rifle, Uzi, everything there

I got a shotgun spare

Leave them where? Raskits lair

Eat MC's like a grizzly bear

Shoplift daily, we don't care

If you wanna test get hung by your hair over there

[Verse 8]

Look inside out (Uh)

Dizzee, flow, boy wile out (Wile out)

Six foot deep, you could never climb out (Never)

Knock a boy inside, knock a boy out

Front, back, outside in

Barefoot kids sippin' on ginseng

Love making, no doggy styling

Dark park on a dark evening

Pump up, tone up, weights in the gym

Glass full of Alizé right to the brim

Roll deep, so deep, they can't swim

Doin' it for Keisha, doin' it for Kim

Wants arms out, he wants to swing

Try a ting, get a punch in the chin

Better start worrying

Get a hidin', beatin', turfin'

[Verse 9]

Do the butterfly

Shake your batty low

Shake your batty high

Don't ask me who, where, when or why

Wanna see your batty rise high to the sky line

Do the butterfly

Shake your batty low

Shake your batty high

Don't ask me how, where, when or why

Wanna see your batty rise high to the sky

[Verse 10]

Not never, I'm swayed

Heatwave, high lyricist, high grade

Cascade, get barricade, get sprayed

Dickhead in the sticky bread, get laid

Cherry head, that's not Dizzee, I'm Blade

Hats off, baseline, trim, no fade

He's hot, somebody get first aid

You ain't great, got to your bed dismayed

Get angry, get crossed, get paid

Get jacked, get hotted up with a spade

Bloodclart, wanna be on top, get sprayed

Dizzee Rascal can't get air raid

Look, ain't dirty, I'm filthy co-paid

Watch wifey, she's easily swayed

That girl's prepaid, you will get played

Talk rough or you might get betrayed

Yo, roll deep on these

And, put these MC's on deep freeze

And, hit these with these, and rip these

Come like Busta, we flip these

So, please don't ramp with these

Fearless, angry, sick MC's

Don't like Christine's or Britney's

Lala's or Tinky Winky's and

This is strictly for pickneys

Oldschool afros, dry white knees

Boy, piss on the factory, stick these

Endless gunshots, we lick these

And trick these, CID's with ease

Touch mic, MC's jump like fleas

Pray your haters get chopped like trees

Avoid Rascal to a avoid injuries

Yo, hit 'em like a lightning bolt

Five thousand volt, it's your own fault

Written by: Dizzee Rascal

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